Narcissus
by HeatherTheVillain
Summary: -LightxL- After losing all memories of the Death Note, teen genius Light Yagami is convinced he isn't Kira, though the great detective L still suspects him. Will a new case free Light or curse him?


Narcissus:

A Death Note Fan Fiction

Chapter One:

Pride

"Wood burns because it has the proper stuff for that purpose in it; and a man becomes renowned because he has the necessary stuff in him. Renown is not to be sought, and all pursuit of it is vain. A person may, indeed, by skillful conduct and various artificial means, make a sort of name for himself; but if the inner jewel is wanting, all is vanity, and will not last a day."

Johann Wolfgang Goethe

Six feet.

There was approximately six feet that separated the teenage genius from his accuser.

Light Yagami was nothing if not methodical. He had done the math perfectly, exactly calculating the limits of his freedom and the line in the sand that spelled his imprisonment. It had started out innocently enough: one night, a miracle had occurred--L, the insomniac had fallen asleep. And, through alchemy of some sorts, it was Light who was left staring at the ceiling with wide, sleepless swollen eyes at three fifteen in the morning. He had shifted countless times, attempting to find the perfect position to lull himself to sleep. But, that damn chain, shimmering a ghoulish moonlit color even in the dark of night, rattled. And so Light, taking the chain into his hands, began to calculate. Each link was an inch long, he determined, and there were seventy two links binding the two together.

Thus, six feet. But, it had become an obsession from there. Now that he knew the numbers, Light was determined to put them into practice. In the month that he and L had been chained together for, this is what he had learned: the space from their shower to the toilet was exactly five feet and four inches, meaning that L could sit comfortable and allow Light to take a shower alone. From there, there was four feet, eleven and three quarter inches from the toilet to the bathroom door, meaning that both of them could use the facilities in peace while the other lingered on the other side of the door. Their kitchen table, however was six feet, three inches, meaning that unless the two sat fairly close to one another Light would have to stand while L ruthlessly devoured innocent cake. And, most importantly of all, there was less than two feet between Light's computer in the taskforce and L's, for the detective had specifically regulated it that way.

Six feet. It was like a grave, Light thought coldly. Six feet of freedom and earth before he hit his coffin. And, how appropriate that the man he was attached to was determined to send the Yagami boy to his early, untimely death. . .

Light sighed heavily, his gaze flickering away from his frozen computer screen to peer around the Taskforce. Taskforce Headquarters was perhaps his least favorite place in the world--and, oddly enough, it had nothing to do with the fact that every time he walked into this building he risked death by Kira's hands; Light was far too arrogant to seriously consider his death a possibility. No, it was the atmosphere of the building. There was something else about it, the coldness, the darkness, the quiet, that made his skin crawl. But, considering the place had been commissioned by L, it was not surprising. After all, L had admitted to being both selfish and childish, so it wasn't surprising he would go with _his _taste and _his _needs--nor would he ask the lead Kira suspect for his opinion, either. Light didn't even bother to question L about the building, either, for he knew he would get some bullshit answer about "surveillance" and "protecting themselves from Kira's wrath" yada yada when the real answer was that anything more normal would completely shake L's intellectual feng shui.

L was, for lack of a better word, strange. The way he sat, the way he looked, the way he ate, the way he thought, the way he spoke, the way he _lived_--all of it was foreign to Light and it had nothing to do with the fact that the raven-haired detective was British. For some reason, Light had thought that being handcuffed to the detective would make him seem more normal--an odd notion, since what normal person handcuffs an attractive teenage boy to their wrist? But, while the whole experience helped him to understand L's odd quirks, it didn't make them any less bizarre. Somehow, Light didn't think he would _ever _get used to L, even if he was tethered to the detective for the rest of his life--a horrible, but plausible thought, given how goddamn determined the stubborn bastard was to prove Light as a mass-murderer. L wasn't the type of person that _anyone _could get used to.

"Light-kun isn't working," a quiet, seemingly toneless voice inquired from the chair next to the pensive teenager; but, to anyone who knew L, _really _knew L, the way Light did (whether he wanted to or not), the mocking, taunting edge to that seemingly simple statement was obvious.

Through gritted teeth, Light, not bothering to turn and face L, coolly replied, "Ryuzaki, the computer is frozen. I _can't _work."

"Really?" L inquired and Light could see from the corner of his vision that the detective's face had returned to it's usual wide-eyed, vulture-like state, made all the more creepy by the thumb-sucking. "How odd." The soft jingling of Light's prison chain rang through the nearly silent room as L hopped off his chair and approached Light, hovering over the teenage boy.

"Not exactly, Ryuzaki. Computers do this all the time. . ." Light began with careful patience.

"Yes, but don't you think it's suspicious that our computers would crash, Light-kun?" L asked and Light sighed; here we go again. . . "They are supposed to be top of the line, best of the best--like myself," he added without emotion. Did it count as bragging if you didn't really care about the fact in question?"

"No. This happens to all computers. . ."

"I wonder if Kira managed to hack into our system," L softly pondered, speaking as if Light hadn't even made a sound. "Perhaps it was you, Light-kun," he suggested, leaning towards the Yagami boy to peer at him with wide, dark eyes, making Light flinch back.

"Ryuzaki, according to your logic, Kira has hijacked our system--which, really makes no sense since the rest of the computers are working fine. And, no computer virus I know of attacks the base computer," Light explained slowly, his lips pulled into a deep frown. "But, even if it _was _Kira, then it couldn't be me, because _I'm not Kira,_" he said for what was perhaps the tenth time in just the past few hours.

"How interesting that you would draw a connection between yourself and Kira," L murmured, tilting his head to the side curiously.

Light sighed in exasperation. "_You _drew a connection between me and Kira, Ryuzaki."

"Kira and I," L corrected automatically. "And no, Light-kun, I did not. I was merely thinking aloud, brain-storming ideas about how or why this occurred. My first guess was that Kira had wormed into our system. And, my second was that perhaps you did something, Light-kun, to damage this system. They were two complete thoughts, two separate thoughts that _you _tied together, Light-kun."

Light eyed L for a moment, struck again by the detective's overly detailed reasoning; but, if it weren't for that there was no way "Ryuzaki" would be the top three detectives in the world. "And what would I have done to screw up the computer?" He asked, both annoyed and mildly curious at what crazy logic L would whip out this time.

"Porn," L answered without pause or expression.

Light's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. "Ryuzaki!" He cried, horrified.

"Hmm? Yes, Light-kun?" The detective asked, turning his gaze from the stilled computer screen to Light's slightly flushed face.

"Why would you say something like that?" The teen demanded.

"Is it really such an illogical conclusion?" L asked in return, nibbling on the edge of his thumb. "You are a teenage boy, after all. A teenage boy who has been handcuffed to myself for almost a month without release," he added, a slight smirk on his face. Light frowned at the double meaning he suspected was in that statement. "It is only natural you would feel frustrated."

Light glared at the detective before replying, "I was _not _looking at _porn_."

"Don't be defensive, Light-kun. I understand," L replied, turning back to attend to his own computer, sitting down in the chair and pulling his knees to his chest as he always did.

"But--but! I--" Light began, flushed.

"Light-kun, this conversation is finished. I have more important things to discuss with you," L replied flatly, tugging on the chain to tell Light that he wanted him to come over. Sighing, Light got out of his chair and obligingly went to the detective's side. After all, if wasn't as if he had better things to do. In fact, the timing was so perfect it almost made him wonder if L had Watari crash the computer so that Light's attention belonged to the detective.

"What is it, Ryuzaki?" The teen asked with genuine interest.

"I would like to show you something, but I must warn you ahead of time that the image is rather disturbing." L replied.

"O-okay. . ." Light swallowed the knot of nerves in his throat, his eyes raking the screen in anticipation. Out of the corner of his vision he saw L's dark, empty eyes roam over him, but he tried to pay no attention to the detective. Whatever the raven-haired man was thinking, he thankfully didn't share it, simply requesting his dutiful, ancient man-servant to send the information he needed.

The warning was absolutely and totally justified, Light realized as he felt the bile bubble up from his stomach to his throat, burning the sensitive flesh. His hand rose up to cover his mouth, jaw dropped in shock and disgust, eyes bulging as they wandered over the photo.

The room was a pristine clear white the color of snow. The walls, furniture, and rugs were empty of any pigment. The only shade in the room was the slick, wet brightness of blood, the shine of exposed flesh and bone, and the pale blue shimmer of death-luster skin.

It was a woman--or had been, at least. She could've been beautiful or she could've been a leper, Light couldn't tell; her face and body were too sliced up for any sort of recognition. Her eyes and heart had been cut out with sharp, clean precision, her mouth and nose sewn shut with silken red thread. The same lace also tethered the holes in her eyes and chest, as if she were a corseted doll. She was completely naked, stripped of her dignity along with her precious organs and parts. Her breasts had been hacked to ribbons, ruby flesh hanging off her much like the string that had sewn her face; her abdomen and thighs were in a similar state. She was positioned in a Christ-like fashion, her hands staked palms up to her bed, rusty nails driven into her flesh, along with her small, slender feet stacked one over the other with a single nail driven through them. It was meant to be a work of art, Light supposed; it made him want to vomit.

"R-ryu . . .zaki . . ." Light breathed softly, afraid to speak any louder for fear of truly getting sick.

"Light-kun, please reserve all questions and/or comments until I am finished," L responded in his usual cool monotone, sounding disturbingly like a flight attendant as he absently picked at a slice of strawberry cheesecake.

Light stared at him, horrified by the detective's lack of emotion. Was he truly unaffected by this? How could any human being be so cold and heartless? Shivering at how true that adjective could be, he murmured, "Ryuzaki, _please_. This is all so . . . horrible. I . . . can't take anymore."

"I am sorry you feel that way, Light-kun, but you have already given your consent. I warned you of the nature of this case and you pledged to assist me nonetheless. I'm afraid I can't let you back out now." And with that, L flicked his fingers over his computer keys and the monitor changed from one monstrosity to another.

The setting had changed dramatically. This time, it was a church, nearly pitch black if only for the dim light of candles and faint glow of stained glass. The cherry wood of the pews glistened nonetheless, the thick coating of blood slathered across the first in the front row of the aisle. The victim was a rather young-looking man who appeared to be kneeling in prayer. Again, there was bondage. His ankles and the back of his thighs seemed to be welded to the ground, his flesh flattened against the coal tiling of the church floor. Nails were driven through the stretched skin. The same treatment had been given to his hands, his palms glued together by melted skin and wrapped neatly in the same red thread from the previous crime scene. There was also significant mutilation as well. Once again, the eyes had been removed, only this time they were not sealed; instead, the sockets were left as wide, gaping holes, the edges ragged from where the eyeballs had been removed. Streams of blood poured from the wounds, appearing like the tears of Christ himself. The heart had been left in place, although there was a silver crucifix stuck through it that shimmered in the twilight. But, there was a new addition to the masquerade: the man's tongue had been severed, the elixir of his life trailing over his lips, pooling in the corners of the smile that had been forced upon his ghostly face.

"Poetic," Light whispered in a dry tone, narrowing his eyes as he turned his gaze to L.

"Yes, I thought it was rather poignant as well," L agreed, dark eyes boring into the screen, inching his twisted figure closer with his thumb pressed to his lips. "What do you think, Light-kun? What are your theories?"

"I think this murderer is crazy."

"Light-kun, please do not say such things," L said, his tone quiet but firm, meaning that this was an order, not a suggestion.

A bit astonished by the detective's uncharacteristic emotion, Light replied, "Sorry, Ryuzaki," even though he had no idea what he was apologizing for. He couldn't help but wonder exactly what sore spot he had hit. But, that was L for you--the man of mystery.

"Understandable, Light-kun. You have nothing to be sorry for," L replied, his voice returning to its usual polite but offish tone. Still, there was a tightness to it that made Light wonder _why _he had been so bothered. "So, what have you concluded?"

Light sighed, attempting to pull his tangled thoughts into one steady statement as they fluttered off in random directions. Normally, it wasn't this hard for him to concentrate--in fact, it wasn't hard at all. But lately, he was exhausted, due to the endless work L had put him through with the Yotsuba case and also just because living with the detective 24/7 was the most tiring experience of his life. He didn't know how L could withstand his constant consciousness and function as a human being, let alone as a great detective.

Frowning, he spoke, "Well, it's quite obviously the work of a serial killer; not only do the crimes have the same evidence--I'm guessing that those threads were of the same cloth, no?--they also have the same style. The killer is trying to tell us something, he is trying to prove a point with these deaths. And, because he is convinced in his purpose, perhaps even a 'duty' in his eyes, these deaths will continue. My theory is that to solve this case and catch this killer, we should not only study his methods, but his victims. He specifically chose these people. That's the key," Light concluded, his eyebrows pulling together thoughtfully.

L simply nodded. "Exactly right as always. Your reasoning--like my own--continues to prove itself flawless."

"Thanks," Light muttered tartly, knowing that the compliment was like a thorny rose: while L clearly admired Light's intelligence, every word he spoke only increased the detective's suspicions of the Yagami boy.

"You don't sound very flattered by that."

"I'm _never _flattered by the things you say, Ryuzaki."

"Hmm. That's too bad, then," L murmured, sipping from his tea. "But back to the case--would you like to know why I asked for your opinion?"

"Because I'm a genius," Light stated flatly.

"Of course, but why else?"

"Because this is all one epic, mind-fuck of a test to prove I'm a ruthless killer?"

"Light-kun, please watch your language," L reprimanded sternly before asking, "Any other guesses?"

"Not a one."

L paused before answering his own question, as he was known to do. Of course, that was because there was usually no one else smart enough to respond for him. "I believe this killer is connected to Kira."

Light rolled his eyes. "_No way_," he muttered with theatric sarcasm.

"Light-kun, that tone is not appreciated," L snapped.

"What are you, my mother?"

"That is biologically impossible."

"Whatever," Light sighed in exasperation. "So, how do you think this is connected to Kira?"

"Why don't you tell me, Light-kun?" L suggested.

"If I do that, then my Kira percentage will just go up," Light hissed through his teeth.

"Maybe, maybe not. But, it can't hurt to try."

"Yes it can! It can make me look like a murderer!" Light cried, his fingers curling into fists in anger and frustration.

"Light-kun, as I've told you multiple times, my theories should not bother you if you are innocent. If you are not Kira, the truth will set you free, both of my chain and my suspicions. But until that time comes--_if _it comes--you will just have to be patient. The more you protest, the more trouble you make for yourself. I can understand the pain and anguish you must be feeling because of all I have put you and your father through and I'm very sorry for that, but please, for both your sake and my own, cooperate," L finished in a soft tone, inky pools staring up at Light, slightly widened in pleading.

Wordlessly, Light nodded, too stunned to give L a reply.

"Thank you, Light," L murmured, nearly giving the teen a stroke--or, perhaps more appropriately a heart attack--by leaving off the usual, automatic honorific. "Now, please share your--or, rather, 'our'--theory with me," he asked, a faint smile of amusement tugging at his colorless lips.

"Uh, right. First off, I don't think that this killer is Kira himself, nor do I believe he has the powers of Kira himself. These people weren't criminals, I know that, so Kira wouldn't kill them unless they were in his way. But, they weren't significant enough for Kira to do such a thing, were they, Ryuzaki?" When L shook his head "no," Light continued, "We've proven that Kira can control his victims actions before their deaths, but I don't believe he could perform something so detailed. It's possible he could have had another person kill the victims, then kill this proxy, but this is so specific, so carefully planned that I have to believe it was done by hand. Also, like I said, this killer is trying to spread a message written in blood. That's a style similar to Kira. Plus, both are very theatrical. I believe that this murderer is probably someone who admires Kira and has taken it upon himself to spread his 'God's' teachings," the teen finished, sneering at the blasphemous statement.

"My thoughts exactly," L replied, his fingers absently tracing the keys of his computer.

"What _a _surprise. . ."

"But, there was something you missed, Light-kun," L cut in, taking his suspect by surprise.

"Oh?" Light asked with a frown, his pride flaring up.

"Yes. I also believe that these murders serve a second purpose as well. I believe they are a challenge."

"To you, Ryuzaki?"

"To L," the detective corrected in a cold tone. "This killer is attempting to tell me, to tell L, that the people's support is behind Kira. And that myself and anyone else who dares to defy their God will be struck dead by his own hands."

Light gave out a nervous chuckle at that; it always gave him chills when he thought of L and the other Taskforce members--especially his father--being murdered by Kira. "Ryuzaki, don't talk like that. You know we'll catch Kira," he reassured the detective with a small smile.

"I never doubted I would catch Kira, Light-kun. Not even when the evidence against you plummeted and I had absolutely nothing to go on did I ever think Kira would slip through my fingers. But, unfortunately, I have also always thought that I would be slain in the pursuit of true justice. . ."

"You're _not _going to _die_, Ryuzaki," Light repeated, half-frustrated and half-fearful. "Not if I can help it."

L gave the boy an expressionless glance, running onyx eyes over his handsome, earnest face and sighed heavily. Tilting his head up, he traced patterns in the ceiling with his gaze as he spoke. "That's very kind of you, Light-kun--if you are not Kira and are not plotting my death, therefore meaning those are honest words. Whatever the case, I have resigned myself to this fate. If you are innocent, please do not interfere. If you are guilty, do what you must. But, until that time comes, please help me solve this case."

Light stared at the detective for a long moment of tense silence before he nodded, one single movement of determination. "Of course I'll help you, Ryuzaki."

"Thank you, Light-kun," L said softly, voice saturated with true gratitude.

_You're welcome, L_, Light responded silently, then widened his eyes at the automatic thought. Why the hell would he think such a thing? Frowning at the possibilities he cleared his face of all expression so that L would not notice his surprise and question him. To change the subject, he asked, "Ryuzaki, with the Yotsuba case still officially open, can you really afford to divert your attention somewhere else?"

"Light-kun, as far as I am concerned, the Third Kira case has be solved and closed," L stated as he popped a piece of cake into his mouth. Speaking with a mouthful of food, he explained, "Thanks to Amane-san we now know that Kyosuke Higuichi is the Yotsuba Kira. Granted, there are still many mysteries left--as in, how Kira kills and how his power is passed from one person to another. But, all of that can be deduced later. Right now, this new case is a more pressing issue, a problem that can cause immediate damage. Besides, the rest of the Taskforce--along with Watari--will remain here in Japan. Thus, we will be notified if there are any new developments."

Light's eyebrows rose in surprise. "'Remain in Japan?'" He repeated questioningly. "Ryuzaki, where are we going?"

"America," the older man answered with inflection before beginning to pluck the leaves off his strawberry with his teeth. "New York City, to be specific."

"Does my father know about this?"

"Yes, I have notified him. Also, I've prepared all our arrangements ahead of time--passports, plane tickets, hotel accommodations, and anything other detail you could think of."

"You've been planning this for a while," Light guessed, his eyes narrowing at the theory he knew was right.

"Indeed, Light-kun. I'm sorry, perhaps I should have been more honest with you?" L wondered aloud as he nibbled on the tip of his strawberry.

"Too late to think of that now," Light muttered, not too pleased with this sudden voyage; even though Light enjoyed traveling and often vacationed with his family, never had he any desire to visit the United States--though it wasn't as if he had a choice . . . "So, when are we leaving?" He asked, frowning.

"Tomorrow morning."

"What time?"

"Whatever time works best for you, Light-kun. The hour is not a detail that needs to be considered," L replied.

Rolling his eyes at the detective's dramatic tone, Light probed deeper. "Won't you tell me anymore about the details of the case, specifically about the victims?"

"I shall fill you tomorrow once we have boarded the plane--and, before you ask, privacy will not be an issue," L added just as Light opened his mouth to question him.

"First class?"

At that, L smirked a bit, the expression strangely pleasant in comparison to his usually lifeless face. "Something like that, Light-kun. Do be patient for me once more," he added, the smirk broadening in a way that made Light's cheeks flush a bit; what the fuck was he talking about? Not daring to question, Light watched as L turned the computers off, turning the room rather dark without the ghostly glow of the screens to give it luster. Light could never really keep track of time or anything else about the outside world while he was trapped in this place. "Come, let's pack," L suggested, drawing Light from his reverie and the teen followed without disagreement. Even though it hurt his pride to back down to L, Light knew that for the sake of his sanity--and possibly his innocence, it would seem--it was in his best interest to simply shut up and follow along . . .

………………………………...

As of late, whenever L thought of the case of the First Kira and its suspect, Light Yagami, the world famous detective could only think of a field. The flowers changed from night to night, dream to dream; most often they were either daises or sunflowers, but they varied. Once they were even roses, a bitterly romantic touch that L in no way appreciated. But, no matter the plant in his pale, spindly-fingered grasp, the ending was always the same: a petal would fall and Light was Kira, Another and Light was innocent. _Petal_--Kira. _Petal_--innocence. In the end, the flower was always stripped bare and Light was Kira, leaving L utterly alone.

It was in no way unrealistic for L to think in such a way, save for the bizarre water-color fantasy metaphor. But, other than that single odd fact, everything made sense. L, the world's not one but three greatest detectives and Kira's ultimate adversary, had concluded with almost certainty that Light Yagami, the most brilliant and handsome student in all of Japan, was the infamous mass-murderer in question. Of course, the key words in that statement were "almost certainty." L Lawliet was 99.9 positive that Light Yagami was Kira, but unless he was actually caught with evidence of his crimes, that 0.1 would forever linger over this case. That miniscule number was a drop of poison to L, not just because it hindered his case but because it was tainted with false hope.

The truth was that L did not want Light to be Kira. In fact, there was nothing more he craved than proof that Light's hands were clean. Even though he knew it was an impossible quest, all through the investigation L had simultaneously been trying to prove Light's guilt and innocence, a fact not even Watari knew--and L told his caretaker, mentor, and assistant _everything_. Or he _had_, at least. Now, he was bursting with secrets hidden from the older gentleman. But, just as he thought, it was a fruitless pursuit. Up until Light's confinement, the boy was as good as executed.

The imprisonment had changed everything. Like all things that fell into Light's magic touch, the Yagami boy had found a way to bend the situation to his advantage. The fact that the teen had been locked up while Kira continued his murderous vengeance--the glimmer of earnestness that appeared to sparkle in his wide auburn eyes--had all but convinced the Taskforce that Light was innocent. And, quite honestly, L himself was even a bit fooled at first; Light's act was perfect as always, but until this moment L could always see through the snide, lying bastard's tricks. Now, however, L was completely unable to catch the cracks of dishonesty in Light's words, unable to see the reflection of Kira, of a prideful, wrath-filled brat with a God-complex, when he looked at Light Yagami's handsome face.

So, in desperation, he had handcuffed detective and suspect as one, further sharpening the double-edged sword he had been walking on ever since he revealed his face at To-Oh. While getting closer to Light had given L ample opportunity to catch and convict him as Kira, it had also provided the killer with a plethora of chances to strike the detective down. But L was determined, beyond any lines of life and death, reason and insanity, law and order, uncover the truth.

Unfortunately, it was a lot easier said than done. Light had walked into L's life and smeared the black and white lines of truth, justice, and evil beyond any recognition or clarity. The boy had done irreparable damage to L's psyche, whether he was innocent or guilty. Years of detective work, of cold, methodical, thoughtless procedures and facts had made L think he was invincible. In that way, he was like Kira: before this investigation, L had believed he had become an inhuman creature, a man unaffected by all the petty desires and feelings that swirled all around him. Thus, he thought that becoming closer to Light would cause things to make sense, to snap the last few puzzle pieces into place and bring him his rightful victory. But, it had only complicated everything.

It had caused him almost physical pain at the time, but L _had _admitted to himself a long time ago that he harbored feelings for Light. Feelings that exceeded the bounds of their supposed "friendship" and certainly crossed the lines of detective-suspect relations. But, eventually he had come to accept the horrible truth; like his insatiable sweet tooth and pretzel-like positions, the way he felt about Light was an irreversible part of L's being. To do so, he had told himself that such a thing wasn't completely unnatural; Light was attractive in both his personality and his looks. But, that of course didn't change the fact that such an emotion was totally, completely, and utterly wrong, standing in stark contrast against everything he supported and had spent his short, but fully-lived life fighting for.

Though the main problem was, of course, the fact that Light could be trying to murder him, there were so many factors that were stirred into this wicked brew. There was the fact that they were both male, not something L considered to be wrong, but still an issue. Until Light, L had never had much of an interest in either sex, so no orientation truly applied to him, nor did he really care to declare himself. But, he got the distinct impression that Light was in a much different category. Light was most likely straight, given the throng of women that always seemed to surround him. But, even if there was a slight question in Light's tastes and even if he had just used the girls that lusted after him to throw L off Kira's trail, nothing other than at best friendship and at worst murder could occur between them. Why would the Yagami boy, perfect in almost everything way, inside and out, _ever _choose the awkward, quirky detective? The answer was simple: he wouldn't--he _couldn't_. It was all so . . . _impossible _. . .

L didn't want to love Light Yagami, but he did. There was no changing that fact; just because he didn't agree with these feelings didn't mean he could change them. He had tried so very hard, so very often to tear out the seeds that Light had planted in his heart. But, like the search for Light's innocence, it had been futile.

Sighing at his twisted thoughts, L rested his head against the backboard of the bed the two men shared. Reaching up, he pinched the bridge of his nose between the tips of his cool, thin fingers, his snowy skin nearly glowing in the darkness. With the exception of the moonlight and the blue glow of the laptop that never left the detective's side, the room was pitch black.

Light was fast asleep beside his chain-mate, his bare chest gently rising and falling at his soft, sleepy snores. The Yagami boy never had trouble sleeping; in fact, he spent much of their mornings complaining about being awoken at the crack of dawn. Smiling down at the boy's slumbering form affectionately, L reached over and traced his fingertips through Light's hair, enjoying the warmth that almost burned against his naturally icy skin; it made him want to put his hands on other parts of Light's body. _Mirror, mirror on the wall--is Kira the fairest of them all? L wondered silently, frowning at his bleak thoughts and lustful impulses. Wisely pulling his hand away from Light's all too tempting defenseless body, he used the predatory digit to shut off his computer, plunging the room into darkness. Rolling onto his side to turn his back on Light, L curled into a tight ball and slowly drifted into a restless sleep._

_Much to the detective's displeasure, he dreamt of roses once again . . . _


End file.
